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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29912988">Quiet Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginger375/pseuds/Ginger375'>Ginger375</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Evolution</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Control Issues, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Rogue is a little stressed, Therapy, Touching, human contact</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:07:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,371</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29912988</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginger375/pseuds/Ginger375</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-series. Rogue needs practice touching people and turns to a certain swamp rat for help.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Remy LeBeau/Rogue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Quiet Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“This is so awkward.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doesn’t have to be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How can you say that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s only awkward ‘cause you’re lettin’ it be awkward.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, ‘cause that’s what it is!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sitting cross-legged on her bed, head in her hands, Rogue couldn’t believe she was even considering this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Get used to contact, Doc Samson had said. Yeah, sure Doc, like it’s that freakin’ easy. Though it’d be a lot easier if Remy didn’t have that stupid-ass look on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop looking at me like that!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like what?” He asked all innocent-like.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like you’re enjoying my utter humiliation,” she groused, crossing her arms and looking away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His face softened. “Do you really think I’d be here if I didn’t want to help you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rogue sighed. This was going about as well as she expected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d been taking a more proactive approach to her powers with the professor, delving into her mind to see if her memories could be recovered, and how her powers caused that memory loss. Recently, Professor Xavier had suggested talking to someone outside the institute to help her deal with the emotional trauma she’d experienced. She’d reluctantly agreed, at least on a trial basis.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fortunately, Xavier had someone in mind already. Dr. Leonard Samson was a super-powered psychologist that worked with other super-powered individuals; the professor already had him on retainer in case anyone had need of him after a particularly rough mission.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Rogue had started proper therapy. Mostly she talked about her feelings towards Mystique and the part Destiny had played in her childhood, how their actions impacted her life, and how she could move past it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been exhausting, but enlightening, though she would never admit that out loud. However, her feelings towards the whole thing may have changed; Doc Samson had told her in her last session that she was going to have to start making purposeful contact. Ideally, prolonged purposeful contact. With another person.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If there’s someone you know that would be willing to work with you on this, I think it would go a long way towards you gaining control of your abilities,” he’d said. “You can’t be afraid of physical contact and expect your powers to just magically work the way you want them to, Rogue. We need to work on getting you past this fear that was all but hefted upon you by Destiny and Mystique.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He did have a point, though she was loathe to admit it. How could she ever control her powers if she was too afraid to even try touching people, even with gloves on and fully covered?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that led to a whole different set of problems. Who could she actually ask? She could hug her friends, sure, walk arm-in-arm with them for a bit, but how was she supposed to ask them oh, hey, would any of you be willing to snuggle with me? It’s part of my therapy, I swear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except she already knew who she could ask. God, this was humiliating…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stupid Remy and his stupid face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d nearly choked on the coffee he’d been drinking when she’d asked him. After she had whacked him on the back a few times and he finally managed to get his breath again, he’d agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Off to a banner start, they were.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A light touch on her knee brought her back to herself. Remy held his hands out to her. “Start small, might make it a little easier?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She carefully put her hands in his, a small smile on her face as she watched his larger hands envelop hers. He stroked his thumbs across her knuckles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s that?” He asked quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“S’nice,” she said before catching herself. “I mean, it’s fine, it’s okay, I’m okay…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re allowed to enjoy it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>chere</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he said without any of the smugness she’d been expecting from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rogue didn’t answer, instead she watched her hands in his. She followed the line of his thumb to a long thin scar that continued down to his wrist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s this from?” She asked, running a finger across the scar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Remy let out a rueful chuckle. “You’re not the only one to have trouble with control.” He let go of her hands and held up his left one to her. “Look closer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took his one hand in both of her and held it closer to her face. Tiny scars cross-crossed his palm and fingers, a few larger ones on the back, almost invisible except at certain angles. How had she never noticed them before?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your powers hurt you?” She asked, allowing him to take his hand back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not exactly,” he said, rubbing one of the larger scars. “Couldn’t control the charge in the beginning, things would blow before I could let go. That’s what made the scars.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’d you get control then?” Rogue whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kept at it, practiced as much as I could. It wasn’t easy, but it did happen eventually,” he said. “You’ll get there, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sighed, then rubbed her hands against her face. Enough stalling. “I think we can… you know…” she trailed off, unsure of how to put it into words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Remy shifted back on the bed, pushing the pillows back against the headboard before making himself comfortable against them. “You ready?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was a loaded question. “Not really, but here we go anyway,” she said as she settled herself against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt his arm wrap around her shoulders, not loosely, but not squeezing her either. She wasn’t trapped, which she appreciated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rogue had one arm under her, but she had no idea what to do with her other hand. Remy solved that problem for her, taking her hand in his and resting them on his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She felt her face heat up, certain the blush went right down to her toes. She’d never been in such an...intimate position with another person. And this wasn’t even that intimate, so she shouldn’t be so tense, right? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can relax a little, Rogue,” she heard him say above her, as if he’d read her mind. “It’s alright, you’re not gonna hurt me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ha! Yeah, because that’s what she was so worried about right now… goddamn he smelled good. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She closed her eyes and went through each limb, trying to release the tension she was holding. She settled more comfortably against Remy, feeling him stroke his fingers against her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s better,” he said. “We’ll work on that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We will?” She asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe next time we could watch a movie? Might distract you a bit, let you relax more?” He mused as he continued tracing patterns on her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d really be okay with doing this again?” She asked, hesitantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m guessin’ the Doc will want you doin’ this pretty regularly,” Remy said, moving his hand from her shoulder to play with a lock of her hair. “Maybe we could do other stuff too, like a long bike ride? That would count, wouldn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was willing to continue. Maybe he did give a damn. “I’d like that,” she said quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stiffened suddenly, remembering something she definitely should have mentioned when they started. “You’ll keep this between us, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He paused in his playing with her hair. “Thought that went without sayin’,” he said as he rested his hand lightly on her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe it does, but I still gotta be sure,” Rogue said, tensing up again. Shit, this wasn’t how she wanted this to go, make him think she didn’t trust him when they’d been doing so well with all the opening up and…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hand started drawing patterns again. “S’no one’s business but yours, Rogue,” he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She relaxed again. “Ours. No one’s business but ours.” Because he was part of this now, come hell or high water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She felt him nod, and squeezed the hand he still held to his chest. “Ours,” he agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later, after she’d disentangled herself from him and sent him on his way, and worked the pins and needles out of the arm she’d been laying on, she mused at how relaxed she felt and nice it had been to be held.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe this part of the getting control process wouldn’t be so bad after all. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Doc Samson is a character from the comics, he mainly serves as Bruce Banner’s psychiatrist, but is known to bring his expertise to other super teams. X-Factor #87 is an entire issue of him in sessions with members of that team and it is excellent.</p>
<p>See the reading list in my profile to see where this story falls in my timeline. Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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